


When Will I See You Again?

by Creej



Category: White Collar
Genre: Abandonment, Other, Pre-OT3, Separation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 02:23:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17840597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creej/pseuds/Creej
Summary: They were supposed to be three...





	When Will I See You Again?

Neal stood with his foot planted on the chair watching as Peter unlocked the anklet for the last time, watching as the green light turned red then faded to darkness. Watched as Peter handed it and the requisite paperwork (in triplicate) to the attendant Marshal.

"Go on," Peter said with a soft smile. "Go accept the congratulations. You've earned them."

It was Peter who watched as Neal returned to the bullpen, immediately surrounded by other agents, probies and interns as they congratulated him on the successful completion of his parole. His mind went to other things - namely, after work when he would take Neal home with him to Elizabeth and the next chapter in their relationship would begin.

They'd talked about it, the three of them. Talked about Neal's place in their lives and how they wanted to include him more fully, to bring him into their marriage, into their bed. Peter's concern was that Neal was more attracted to Elizabeth and would feel obligated to accept Peter's overtures in order to be with her. Elizabeth had pish poshed that idea, saying she was well aware and had accepted that Neal was primarily attracted to him. It was obvious, she said, from the way stood so deep in his space, how he welcomed the touches on his shoulder, at the small of his back, how he looked at the older man when he thought no one would notice.

"He looks at you the same way I do, hon," Elizabeth said on more than one occasion.

Peter had accepted what she said, even though the tiniest doubt remained in the back of his mind, easily ignored as Neal turned to catch his eye through the glass walls of his office with a look that should have steamed them opaque.

Finally, the work day ended - no cases came along to disrupt the plans they'd made - and Peter led Neal out of the office, his hand comfortably at the small of his back.

 

Elizabeth was waiting for them when they got to Brooklyn - Peter ushering Neal through the front door as he had dozens of times. Almost immediately, Elizabeth took Neal's face in her hands and kissed him - and there was nothing chaste about it. Once she released him, he turned to gauge Peter's reaction and found a smile on his face and eyes slightly darkened by lust.

"Peter...?"

Peter said nothing as he pulled Neal into his arms and claimed his mouth, taking advantage when Neal gasped to fully taste him.

"All right you two," Elizabeth said, amused. "The more interesting stuff can wait until after dinner."

Peter pulled back, lightly nipping Neal's lips. "She's right," he said. "We have time."

 

After an excellent meal with generous amounts of wine, they settled on the couch with Neal in the middle and Peter picked up on an air of hesitation coming from his former charge. Gently, he turned Neal's face to look at him. "Tell me," he said.

Neal clasped his hands and addressed the floor. "I want this," he said. "I want you, both of you but if it's all right, I'd like time with just Elizabeth."

Peter's gut clenched in disappointment and at that exact moment, caught Elizabeth's look of surprise...of joy...of smug satisfaction? and heard himself say, "If that's what you want" as he stood. "I'll just..." He waved vaguely at the stairs. "Just let me know when..." He gave up and started upstairs, pausing halfway when he heard Neal's "Peter..." Was that a plea for understanding he heard in Neal's voice? "It's fine," he made himself say. "I'll just get out of your way."

He continued up to the bedroom and quickly packed a couple bags, finding them still on the couch when he returned, sitting pressed against each other, hands clasped.

"It won't be long," Neal said. "I promise."

Peter said nothing, just nodded as he hefted his bags, closing the door firmly behind him.

 

He checked himself into a modest hotel, telling himself he could handle a few days on his own, that they needed the time to get used to each other without him around. But a few days turned into a week which stretched into two which rolled into three and despite checking every night, there were no calls, no messages, no texts telling him he was missed.

Week four and he started looking for a short lease apartment, finding one close enough to the office to be convenient.

Weeks five, six and seven saw it furnished with comfortable but mismatched pieces, his fridge and cupboards stocked (reducing the amount of take out ordered) and settling into a new routine.

Week eight and the doubt in the back of his mind became too insistent to ignore.

Week nine and he reluctantly removed his wedding ring - the doubt a near conviction.

Week ten and he finally heard from them but it wasn't what he'd hoped. It was a short, almost perfunctory message from Elizabeth saying only that they were in Europe. No mention of where or when they'd be back.

Week eleven and he took advantage of their absence to get the rest of his things. It wasn't much since the house was more Elizabeth's space than his - just the rest of his clothes and personal items. The pictures made him pause though. There were some of him and Elizabeth, of him and Neal, some of the three of them and a few of Elizabeth and Neal that had been taken during the last weeks of Neal's parole. In the end, he packed all away except for those of Neal and Elizabeth and stored them on the little used third floor. With one last look, he locked the door behind him.

Week twelve and a take down went horribly wrong.

 

Their perp had shown no sign of violence - crooked accountants rarely did - and there was no sign of a weapon. That is, until Peter approached to put on the cuffs. It was then that he pulled a gun - a little two shot Derringer - and fired point blank into Peter's chest.

The last thing Peter felt was the bullet tearing through his body and the shock of pain. He didn't feel himself crumple to the floor, didn't feel himself loaded into an ambulance or the way it swayed as it made its way through traffic. He didn't feel the charge that restarted his heart - not once but twice - or the doctors cutting into him to remove the slug that had nearly ended his life.

 

He woke in a room dimly illuminated by a light over and slightly behind his head. It was enough to let him see where he was. Off to the side, a heart monitor beeped steadily, a cannula was situated under his nose and an O2 sensor gripped his finger. Trailing from his arm was an IV line. He gasped as a wave of pain rolled over him and he was vaguely aware of the heart monitor's rapid beeping as he tried to ride it out. That evidently triggered an alarm because moments later, light from the hall spilled into the room as a nurse entered.

"Agent Burke...?"

"Hurts," Peter gasped. The nurse fiddled briefly with the IV and soon he felt blessed relief as the high power pain killers took effect. He cleared a dry throat and before he could ask, the nurse slipped a straw into his mouth. He sighed as the tepid water soothed the scratchiness, letting his head fall back when he had enough. "How long?" he asked in a near whisper.

"Six days," the nurse said.

"It was close," Peter said more than asked.

"Very close," the nurse said. "You'd lost a lot of blood but the doctors expect you to make a full recovery." She straightened the blankets covering him. "Rest now. Sleep. If you need anything, the call button is on the right."

 

The next time he woke, he realized almost immediately that he wasn't alone. In the bedside chair sat Jones, his worried expression smoothing into relief when he saw Peter awake. "Good to see you still with us," he said.

"Not getting rid of me that easily," Peter said with a hint of humor.

"Trust me, I can wait to get your job," Jones said. He sobered. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone shoved a hot poker through my chest," Peter said with a grimace. "Who knew a little pea shooter could cause so much damage?"

"Hey, getting shot is getting shot," Jones said.

"You got him?" Peter asked.

"On a lot more than cooking the books," Jones said. "Embezzling, money laundering and attempted murder of a Federal officer. He's going down for a long time."

Peter nodded, feeling his eyes start to droop. "Keep me in the loop, will you?" he asked around a yawn.

"Will do," Jones said. He patted Peter's hand as he stood. "Get better soon. We miss you at the office."

"Try my best," Peter said as he closed his eyes. He was asleep almost before Jones left the room.

 

As the days passed, he was able to remain awake longer and he received visits from not only Jones but Diana and most of the team. Even Moz and June stopped by to see how he was doing.

He woke just over a week into his hospital stay to more visitors. Not Jones, not Diana or anyone from the office. Seated in the bedside chair were Neal and Elizabeth, Elizabeth sitting comfortably in Neal's lap, her head on his shoulder. Both were asleep, their clothes looking travel rumpled. The wave of happiness he felt at seeing them was quickly swamped by the surge of anger at their silence over the last three months.

Elizabeth stirred, opening her eyes. "Hon? Oh my God! Hon, are you okay? Stupid question. Of course you're not. You're in the hospital. What happened?"

"Why do you care?" Peter nearly snapped.

"Hon...?"

"Why do you care?" Peter repeated, ignoring her uncertain look. "Three months and not a damned word from either of you."

"But we told you..."

"Yeah, that you were in Europe. Not where you were or when you'd be back," Peter said with a glower. "Three fucking months of radio silence."

"Peter..."

"Get out. Both of you," Peter said, extricating his hand when Elizabeth took it.

"You don't mean that," Elizabeth said.

"Yes. I do," Peter said with a glare. "Get out and go on with the life you obviously started without me." The glare hardened when they hesitated. "Now. Before I have a nurse call security."

"We'll be back later," Elizabeth said, leaning over to give him a kiss. But Peter turned his head so it landed on his cheek instead.

"Forget it," Peter said. "I'm sure you have better things to do."

"Come on, Neal," Elizabeth said quietly. "Let's leave him to rest."

"We'll be back later," Neal said, taking Peter's hand only to have it shaken off.

 

Elizabeth opened the door to the house in Brooklyn and sighed in relief as they wrestled their luggage inside. "Europe was wonderful but it's good to be home," she said. She saw Neal's troubled look as he agreed and knew what caused it. "He didn't mean it," she said, pulling him into her arms. "You know he didn't. It was just the pain talking."

Neal let out a breath, returning the hug. "Yeah," he said. "You're right." He smiled down at her before giving her a light kiss. "Go ahead and hit the shower while I get us some wine. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," Elizabeth said. "I'd like to get the airplane stink off."

Neal had just selected a decent red and was in the process of opening it when he heard Elizabeth's somewhat panicked call from upstairs. "El?" he asked, hurrying to the bedroom. "El? What is it?" He found her sitting wide eyed on the end of the bed. "El?"

Wordlessly, she pointed to the open dresser, the drawers empty of Peter's clothes. A look in the closet showed the agent's suits, ties and shoes gone as well.

"He didn't..." Neal said with a shake of his head before he left to look through the rest of the house. No clothes in the bedroom, personal items gone from the bathroom, no pictures of him on the shelves, walls and mantle, even his beer was gone from the fridge.

"He's gone," Elizabeth said as she came downstairs.

"He wouldn't leave you," Neal said. "Leave _us_. He promised...he knows how much I want to be with him..."

"He'll come back," Elizabeth said firmly. "He has to."

 

Peter set aside his crossword, hearing a quiet but heated argument outside his room. He'd known Neal and Elizabeth wouldn't be happy at being barred from visiting but he couldn't bring himself to care - not after the weeks of silence they'd subjected him to while they were off in some of the most romantic cities in the world - for where else would Neal take the woman he loved?

"We'd like to hear it from him," he heard Neal say. "You can let us have that much, can't you?"

The door opened and his day nurse, Gloria, stuck her head in. "You heard?" she asked.

"Hard not to," Peter said. "Let them in." He kept his expression passive as Neal and Elizabeth pushed into the room.

"Hon..."

"Peter..."

"You wanted to hear it from me so fine," Peter said. "Leave. I don't want you here. Go on with your life and let me get on with mine."

"Peter, you don't understand..." Neal started.

"I understand just fine," Peter interrupted with a glower. "And I was stupid to think it could turn out any other way."

"But you promised..." Neal said.

"So did you," Peter snapped. "You both did. But three fucking months of _nothing_ put the lie to that. Now get out!"

"You heard the man," Gloria said in a tone that brooked no opposition. "Out. I won't have you upsetting my patient." She none too gently herded them out and closed the door but she didn't leave. Instead, she pulled the chair next to the bed and sat. "Talk to me, Peter."

Peter regarded her a moment. Gloria was an older woman, older than Elizabeth and certainly closer to him in age, with dark hair turning silver, kind brown eyes and a manner that made it easy to talk to her - even for someone like Peter. He sighed. "That was my wife," he said. "And he was my CI at the Bureau. We were going to...expand our marriage to include him but they obviously had other ideas - namely that I wouldn't be included." He let out a breath. "Neal's slick, charming, gorgeous...and the best conman to come along in a long time. Elizabeth's damn near as good."

"You think they conned you?"

"Yep," Peter said without hesitation. "Three months before I ended up here, Neal's parole ended and they disappeared to Europe. I didn't hear a word from them the entire time except for one very short message. I'd been here more than a week before they showed up."

"They didn't know you'd been shot?" Gloria asked, frowning a little.

"I'm sure they did," Peter said. "They obviously ignored the message I know was left for them. It's SOP in situations like this." He leaned his head back. "I really should have known this would happen," he said, staring at the ceiling. "They're both beautiful, smart and completely out of my league."

"Peter Burke!" Gloria said reprovingly, causing Peter to snap his gaze to her. "They are _not_ out of your league. "Do you have any idea how many nurses have tried to talk me into switching patients with them? Melissa keeps asking me how that 'hot, sexy FBI agent' is doing. She's mentioned sponge baths more than once too.

Gloria's words startled a laugh from Peter but he couldn't deny the burst of warmth in his chest. "She hasn't seen Neal," he said. "He's the one women pant after, not me."

"We both saw him when they came in," Gloria said.

"And what was her reaction?" Peter asked. "What was _yours_?"

"He's pretty enough, I suppose," Gloria said. "And we traded an eye roll when he started charming the nurses assistant." She squeezed his hand briefly. "Next to you, he's a child - a pretty child but still a child. You, Peter Burke, are a handsome man and don't you forget it. Hear me?"

Peter nodded, a little embarrassed at the warmth he felt in his cheeks. "Thank you," he said.

Gloria gave his hand a pat and stood. "I'd better get back," she said. "I'll check on you later."

 

That afternoon, when his doctor came to check on him, Peter brought up the possibility of an early release, assuring him that his pain levels were nothing to be concerned about, his appetite was healthy and his incision showed no sign of infection.

"You're not...fudging about your pain levels, are you?" Dr. Portman asked, peering at him over the chart. "You wouldn't be the first, you know."

"I had worse when I tore my rotator cuff," Peter said.

Dr. Portman hummed absently as he continued studying the chart. Finally, he returned it to its place with a nod. "You're doing quite well," he said. "Better than I'd expected by this point certainly."

"But..." Peter prompted.

"One more day," Dr. Portman said. "Just to be sure. You had the surgical team very worried."

"I was told I'd lost a lot of blood," Peter said.

"You did. You also coded...twice," Dr. Portman said. "It was touch and go for a while." He let out a breath. "So, tomorrow unless there are unforeseen complications."

Once the doctor left, Peter made a call to Diana and asked her to drop off his clothes at the hospital when she got done at the office, grateful she'd never asked any of the myriad questions he knew she had about his living arrangements. "They're letting me loose tomorrow," he said.

"You need a ride back to your place?" Diana asked. "I could drop you..."

"Nah but thanks. I'll catch a cab," Peter said.

"All right. I'll get them to you first thing," Diana said.

 

Peter let out a silent sigh of relief as he sighed the last of his discharge paperwork, wincing a little when his incision pulled. He nodded to the nurse as she handed him his post-op instructions and his prescriptions. On his way to the hospital pharmacy, he stopped by the nurses' station to say good bye to Gloria and to thank her. She gave him a slight smirk and tilted her head toward another nurse who was giving him an openly frank, appreciative look. "Told you," Gloria said. She leaned toward him and added in a whisper, "And she isn't the only one."

Peter chuckled. "I guess you were right," he said.

"Take care of yourself, Peter," Gloria said. "And don't ever come back here."

"I'll try my best. No guarantees though," Peter said.

 

He found them waiting near the hospital entrance, the only surprise was that he wasn't surprised. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"We're here to take you home," Elizabeth said, reaching for the bag he held.

"I can get there myself," Peter said, moving the bag out of her reach. "I've already got a cab waiting."

"Hon, just listen..."

"Listen!?" Peter asked incredulously. "Listen? I listened for three months, Elizabeth and I heard exactly three words: We're in Europe. That was it. Not where you were or when you'd be back. No calls, not even a God damned text. I'm done listening. Now leave me alone. If you don't, I swear to God I'll have a restraining order put on the both of you and if the NYPD won't enforce it, I will."

"Peter..."

"Shut it Caffrey," Peter growled. "I was stupid. Stupid to think I was anything other than a means to an end for you. You both got what you wanted and it wasn't me. Now out of my way." When Neal grabbed for his hand, he rounded on both of them. "I said leave me alone. You got who you really wanted, Caffrey and Elizabeth, you got your upgrade, someone who won't embarrass you in public."

"That's not true," Elizabeth said, sounding hurt.

"Isn't it?" Peter gritted. "Ever since he showed up, you've taken his side, gone behind my back to help him. Made me feel like an idiot just because I'm not as 'refined' as him, like I was some sort of Philistine. Made me feel less than because I'm not as slick or charming as he is and that I just don't measure up in the looks department. Now, my cab is waiting and I don't feel like running up the meter."

"Agent Burke? Is there a problem?"

Peter turned to see the nurse, Melissa, beside him. "No, no problem," he said.

"Let me walk you out, okay?" Melissa said, taking his arm - rather proprietarily - and walked with him to the entrance.

When she returned, Elizabeth grabbed her arm as she went past. "You _do_ know he's married," she said. "To me. So I'd appreciate it if you kept your hands off him."

Melissa eyed her for a moment. "If you were that concerned about him, why did it take you more than a week to show up after he was shot?" she asked. "Do you have any idea how serious it was?"

"He's been shot before," Elizabeth said. "And he's fine."

Melissa leaned in a little. "He coded twice. Once in the ambulance, once on the table. He almost didn't make it. Now if you'll excuse me..."

Melissa's words left them both stunned...and Neal feeling a little guilty. It had been his idea to unplug so he and Elizabeth could concentrate on just being together with no interruptions and Elizabeth had assured him that Peter would understand. He'd believed her since who knew Peter better? The guilt increased when he remembered the message had been more than a week old by the time they'd checked - a terse Jones telling them Peter had been shot in a take down gone sideways. Then it was the rush to get their things together for the trip home, the waits and delays in the various airports, the hassle of going through Customs, all keeping them from getting to Peter as quickly as they wanted.

"Come on, El," Neal said. "Let's go home. We'll figure something out."

 

Peter looked somewhat resignedly at the stairs leading up to his apartment but grateful that it was only on the second floor. He took them slowly and mad it with a minimum of huffing and puffing. The sight that greeted him was a familiar one now - the living room simply furnished with a recliner, a couch with an endtable, and a TV. The bedroom held a double bed, two side tables and a dresser and off to one side was a door leading to the bathroom containing a sink, toilet and shower stall. The kitchen held just the usual appliances since Peter usually ate in the living room as he perused case files.

Since it was past lunch time and the breakfast he'd had in the hospital was less than satisfactory, he fixed himself a sandwich, grabbed a beer and settled in to watch a game. Halfway through, his phone rang and he scowled, seeing Elizabeth's face light up the screen. He debated on whether to answer it but by the time he decided, it stopped.

"He won't answer," Elizabeth said. "It keeps going to voicemail." She sighed. "I thought he'd understand...that he'd at least listen but he was so _angry_..."

"We hurt him, El," Neal said. "We didn't mean to but we did."

"He could have _died_ ," Elizabeth whispered. "And we wouldn't have known until it was too late..."

"But he didn't," Neal said softly. "He's fine."

"But he's not with us. He should be with us," Elizabeth said.

"He will be," Neal said, sounding more confident than he felt.

"He won't even talk to us..."

"He will."

"What are we going to do?"

Neal thought for a moment, unsure how to answer. They had no idea where Peter lived, no idea when he'd moved out, only that it was some time while they'd been gone. But he knew Peter would be off work until he was cleared for duty. "He'll talk either Diana or Jones into bringing him case files," he said. "I'll follow one of them to where Peter's living."

"Neal, you heard what he said about the restraining order," Elizabeth said. "Do you want to chance that he wasn't serious?"

Neal rubbed his face. "Okay, fine," he said. "I'll ask Moz to do it."

 

Peter studied himself in the mirror, straightening his tie and caught sight of his bare ring finger. He scowled, remembering the confrontation at the hospital a few weeks earlier, still somewhat shocked at their presumption. They'd assumed h e'd listen to their excuses, assumed he'd just forgive them for their weeks of silence as they left him hanging. Assumed that the three of them could just pick up things where they'd left them. He knew the truth, had known for weeks. Neal had used him - used him to get out of prison, used him to find Kate then used him to get Elizabeth. He admitted to some disgust at himself - he'd let himself be conned by the best, had forgotten the most important rule when dealing with Neal Caffrey - never believe him without doubt. He always had an agenda, was always playing an angle.

And Elizabeth. After fifteen years, she finally found someone she felt was more worthy of her attention, someone who deserved her, never mind that he'd always made sure she knew he loved her, would do anything to make her happy.

He scowled again and shoved thoughts of them out of his mind. They had who they wanted and they'd made it clear there was no room for him.

 

Peter was aware of the tail on him as soon as he acquired it. He was pretty sure - almost positive - he knew who it was - and it wasn't Neal. After all Neal had Elizabeth and wasn't interested in him. So that left one person - Moz.

He stopped a few blocks from his building and turned - the short man leaning against the wall hiding behind a newspaper not at all subtle. "I have no idea why you of all people would be following me," Peter said, snatching the newspaper.

"I do so at the request of a mutual friend," Moz said.

"We don't have any mutual friends," Peter said, folding the paper and slapping it against Moz's chest.

"Neal," Moz said as he clutched the paper.

"He isn't my friend. Never was," Peter said. "You should be proud of him, Moz. He managed to pull a four year con on a very suspicious, by the book FBI agent and got my wife as the prize. Not that she had any objections..."

"You're wrong, Suit," Moz said. "As much as it pains me to say it, Neal loves you and though I'm loathe to admit it, you're good to him, good _for_ him." 

"If either of them loved me then explain three months of radio silence while they gallivanted across Europe on what might as well have been their honeymoon," Peter said. "Explain why they ignored the message they got telling them I"d been shot. It was almost fatal."

"You almost died?" Moz asked, shocked. "Do they know?"

"They know," Peter said. "But they were God knows where when it happened. They probably weren't too upset when they found out but if they were, it was probably because I pulled through. I suspect they rather I hadn't since it would have made things easier for them." He turned to leave then said, "I know your first loyalty is to Neal but if you breathe a word to him - or Elizabeth - about where I live, I'll make your life hell. Starting with putting you in the system. Understood? What I do, where I live, who I see is no longer their business. They lost that right when they cut me out."

Moz sighed. "I'll do that," he said. "They won't be happy..."

"I don't care if they are or not," Peter said. "They made their choice." He waited until Moz was well on his way then a bit longer before continuing on to his building..

 

He caught me," Moz said as he and Neal sat at the BUrke's dining room table with a glass of wine.

"What did he say?"

"He thinks you were conning him those four years you were on the leash," Moz said. "And that if you were upset that he got shot, it was because he pulled through. That you both probably would have preferred he hadn't."

"No..." Neal said, clearly upset.

"I know, mon frere," Moz said. "But three months with no word...you really can't blame him."

"I know," Neal said on a sigh. "But we thought he'd understand, we thought he'd at least listen..." He sighed again. "So where does he live?"

"I wish I could tell you," Moz said. "But if I do, he promised to make my life...difficult. He said you and Elizabeth lost the right to know where he lives, who he sees and what he does when you cut him out."

"But we didn't!" Neal said.

"From his perspective, yes, you did," Moz said. "I hate taking his side but..."

"Yeah..."

 

Peter and Diana were in his office bouncing ideas off each other about how a jewelry heist had gone down when they were interrupted.

"I could help you with that."

Peter looked up to see Neal lounging in the doorway, visitors badge clipped to his shirt. "We don't need your help, Caffrey," he said shortly.

"Peter, please, just listen."

"Boss?" Diana asked. She was aware of the situation between Peter, Neal and Elizabeth, knew what they'd done to him but hadn't asked for specifics.

"If you could get us an interview with the manager," Peter told her, his gaze never leaving Neal.

"On it," Diana said. She gave Neal a hard look as she left, one that clearly said if he hurt Peter again, she'd make sure he regretted it. Even years after her probationary term ended, she was still very protective of her boss and didn't take kindly to those who hurt him, even if she knew and (sometimes) liked them.

"I thought I told you to leave me alone," Peter said.

"Just hear me out," Neal said. "Let me explain."

"I don't need an explanation," Peter said. "You've made yourself crystal clear."

"You're wrong."

"Wrong? You and my wife disappeared for three months after we all agreed, after we promised to be three. I don't hear a fucking word and you expect me to just forget it, pretend it never happened," Peter said in a harsh whisper. "I was stupid. Stupid to think I'd be good enough for Elizabeth once you came along. You _lied_ to me. You both did. I forgot what you really are - a selfish, self centered con man who only thinks of himself and what he wants."

"Peter..."

"Just tell me one thing. When did you change your minds? When did you decided to break the promise you made?"

"We didn't change our minds," Neal said. "We still want to be three."

"So why cut me out? Why just the two of you?"

Neal straightened and closed the door. "I needed just Elizabeth because I thought she could help me be good enough for you," he said.

"You needed pointers from Elizabeth?" Peter asked, his skepticism plain. "Sorry, I don't buy it."

"It's the truth," Neal said.

"Your actions say otherwise," Peter said. "You both left me hanging for three months, left me wondering, left me doubting. I never crossed your minds the entire time." His next words dripped with sarcasm. "Although I suppose I should be grateful you even bothered to tell me what continent you were on."

"I know it's not an excuse but it was my idea to unplug," Neal said. "So Elizabeth and I could just...be together. She told me you'd understand. And why wouldn't I believe her? She knows you better than anyone."

"Obviously she doesn't know me as well as she thinks," Peter said. "Otherwise she'd have known how I'd feel. Either that or she just didn't care."

"We got caught up," Neal said. "Seeing Europe without the law on my heels, telling her stories..."

"So caught up you couldn't spare me the first thought," Peter said. "Not to mention that you both think me so uncultured I couldn't possibly enjoy it. I'm such a Philistine that I couldn't possibly understand the appeal. Right?"

"No, that's not it at all," Neal said. "I told you I wanted to know I'd be good enough for you. If I was as good as Elizabeth..."

"You _were_ good enough, Neal," Peter said. "I fell in love with who you are, not who I wanted you to be. I never wanted another Elizabeth, I wanted Neal Caffrey, the brilliant, gorgeous man I got out of prison. But I won't get him because he and my wife have decided I'm not good enough.":

Neal suddenly approached the desk and leaned over it. "If this office didn't have glass walls, I'd be on my knees showing you that you're damned well good enough," he said in a low voice. "Better than I deserve. I know I've lied to you before, lied by omission, misled you, let you draw the wrong conclusions and yes, I've used you but I swear 'I'm not lying to you now. I've wanted you since I handed you that sucker in front of the bank, fantasized about what's under those suits. Elizabeth said you were gorgeous but I'd like to find out for myself. I"m sorry Peter. Sorry for what I helped put you through even though the last thing I wanted was for you to get hurt."

"I wouldn't be this pissed off if I was just hurt," Peter said. "Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to tell you how I felt about you? Knowing there was every chance you'd laugh and tell me thanks but no thanks? Knowing I just don't measure up to the exacting standards of the great Neal Caffrey? But you conned me into believing you felt the same way then ran off with my wife, laughing your asses off at how gullible I was, believing there was even the slightest chance you could be interested in me.That Elizabeth would still want me."

"We never laughed at you," Neal said quietly. "We'd _never_ laugh at you."

"Oh, that's right," Peter said. "You'd have actually had to think about me. And why would you? It was a case of out of sight, out of mind, not absence makes the heart grow fonder. You saw no reason to think about me." He gave an irritated huff when Neal started to protest. "Save it Caffrey. You've conned me for the last time. Go home and tell Elizabeth she'll get what she wants."

"And what's that?"

"A divorce," Peter said. "That way she won't have a dirty little secret and you won't feel like one."

"Divorce? No Peter, she doesn't want that," Neal protested. "She wants you, wants us..."

"Bullshit," Peter said. "She's got you. Why the fuck would she want me? I tried to give her a good life but now she knows what she's been missing. There's no way in hell she'd want me back."

"Then you don't know her as well as you think you do," Neal said, showing a bit of anger for the first time. "Where did you get this completely fucked up idea you're not good enough anyway?"

Peter regarded him for a moment then said in a flat voice, "From you and Elizabeth. And three months of silence while you two were on your honeymoon. Now get out of my office before I have you escorted out."

"And you called me single minded when I was looking for Kate," Neal said. "You're so damned sure you're right about how we feel about you that you refuse to listen.. You're _not_ right. You're a stubborn son of a bitch who refuses to believe we love you. I stuck around for you. Both times. I'd decided to tell you I was staying when the plane exploded. I"d already decided to stay when my parole was up. I stayed for _you_."

"You stayed for Elizabeth," Peter said. "If you just wanted her, you should have said so instead of making me believe you wanted me too. If she'd have told me she wanted you instead, I"d have stepped aside. It would have hurt like hell but I'd have done it. For her. To make her happy. But apparently it was easier for you both to leave me to figure it out for myself. Well I have and you insult me by still trying to convince me I'm wrong. I'm not an idiot Neal. I know what happened. You both realized you'd be much happier without me in the picture."

"You're wrong, Peter," Neal said. "And just for the record, I fell in love with you first. Falling for Elizabeth too was...a nice surprise. I felt like I'd gotten the score of a lifetime when you told me you felt the same way. It was like the U-boat treasure was a bunch of dime store trinkets in comparison and what I felt for Kate was just a schoolboy crush." He sighed and dropped into the visitor's chair. "I don't know what to do here, Peter. I need to make this right and I don't know how."

"Sometimes when things are broken there's no putting the pieces back together," Peter said.

"You know, I keep thinking about that kiss," Neal said as if Peter hadn't spoken. "The one you gave me the day the anklet came off. If Elizabeth hadn't interrupted us...well, dinner would have gotten cold."

"Why did you really ask for just her?"

"I was scared," Neal said. "Scared that I"d mess up somehow - you know how good I am at that. Scared that I wouldn't measure up, that I"d disappoint you. I needed the confidence boost from Elizabeth."

"And you couldn't get that with me there?"

"I was wrong," Neal said. "We were both wrong to do what we did, for leaving you behind, for not remembering that we were three even though you weren't there."

Peter studied the man across from him, looking for tells that he was being conned, tried to look in Neal's eyes but Neal kept his gaze lowered, as if he were ashamed. His heart clenched a little as a tear slid down Neal's cheek and he made no effort to wipe it away. As good a conman as Neal was, even he couldn't cry on demand. "What do you want, Neal?" he asked.

"You," Neal said softly. "You and Elizabeth. I want us to be three...like we all promised."

"And Elizabeth?"

"The same. For us to be together," Neal said. "She knows you come first and she's okay with it. I can't take your place, Peter. I couldn't even if I wanted to and Elizabeth never wanted to replace you. I'm not an upgrade. I'm just an ex-con who's in love with my ex-handler and his wife."

Peter scrubbed his face. "You can't blame me for doubting you," he said. "It _hurt_ , Neal. Hurt to think I was just a means to an end."

"Will you at least let us try to make it up to you?"

"I don't know if you can," Peter said. "You two are the only ones who could hurt me this bad and it seems like you did without a second thought. Like you didn't care if you did. I can't believe you were so caught up that I _never_ crossed your mind."

"You've been to Europe..."

"Yeah, chasing your ass," Peter said. "But even as focused as I was, I never forgot about Elizabeth. I called her every night. I didn't even get a text while you were gone."

"Boss?" Diana said from the door. "We got the interview in an hour."

Neal stood. "I know you're busy so I'll get out of your hair," he said. "Just...think about it, please?"

"No promises."

 

Diana caught up to Neal at the elevator and grabbed his arm. "Do you have any idea how badly you hurt him Caffrey? You and Elizabeth?" she said, voice hard.

"Yes, Diana, I do," Neal said.

"No, I don't think you do," Diana said. "Ever since he's come back to work, that's all he does. Work. I've come in at six sometimes and he's already in his office, wearing the same suit he had on the day before. He's going to work himself right back into the hospital if he keeps it up. You need to _fix it_."

"Don't you think I want to?" Neal said a little heatedly. "We both want to. But he won't listen!"

"It's hard to listen through that much hurt," Diana said. "And he won't listen to you because of your...liberties with the truth. It used to help you on the other side but now it's biting you in the ass."

Neal nodded and glanced back into the office, seeing Peter descend the stairs into the bullpen. "I'd better get going before he has me banned from the building. If you have any ideas on how we can fix this, please share."

 

"You gonna get that?" Diana asked, indicating Peter's phone. They were at Peter's apartment going over their current case.

"What's the point?" Peter asked. "I don't know why they're even trying. A con doesn't work if the mark knows it's a con."

"You're sure it's a con?" Diana asked.

"What else would it be?" Peter asked in return. "Three months and all they told me was they were in Europe...somewhere. And if they loved me, if they even cared, why did it take them more than a week to show up at the hospital?"

"Have you asked them?"

Peter snorted softly. "Caffrey said they unplugged so they could just be together...no interruptions."

"And why is that so hard to believe?"

"Because, even when I was chasing Caffrey around the damned globe, I _never_ forgot about Elizabeth," Peter said. "She forgets I even exist after just a few days with him."

"Boss..." Diana started. "Peter...I've seen how Elizabeth looks at you. It's like you're the only man in the world. She loves you, anyone could see it. And Caffrey, half the time I expected the office to turn into a sauna because of the heated looks he gave you those last weeks. I never took you for one to wallow in hurt..."

"I'm not wallowing," Peter said.

"Yes, you are," Diana said kindly but firmly. 

"And you've seen how she looks at Caffrey..."

"A watered down version at best of how she looks at you," Diana said. She took out her phone and began tapping out a text.

"What are you doing?"

"Texting Elizabeth," Diana said. "Giving her your address and telling her to bring Caffrey."

"Diana..."

"You three need to talk...or not talk before you land yourself in the hospital again," Diana said firmly.

"And what makes you think they'll come?"

"They will," Diana said. "Believe me." She finished sending the text and began gathering the casefiles they'd been going through. "Just so you know, I don't expect you to be in the office tomorrow," she said. "Jones and I can handle things so don't worry."

"You're sure things will work out, aren't you?"

"If I'm wrong, you can bust me back down to probie," Diana said unconcerned. "And I'll take van duty for the next six months." She let out a breath as she stood with the files in hand. "Worst case, nothing changes. Best case...you get what you obviously want."

Twenty minutes after Diana left, Peter opened the door to find Elizabeth and Neal looking somewhat uncertain...and hopeful.

 

Epilogue...

 

Peter fell back against the pillows, panting, groaning a little as he felt two sets of hand, two mouths wander over him. When he'd opened the door, they hadn't said a word before Neal had his mouth on his in a devouring kiss as they began undressing him, Elizabeth kicking the door shut behind them as they maneuvered him into the bedroom. Almost before he registered it, he was naked, on his back as Neal swallowed him down, his moans muffled in Elizabeth's mouth. Then it was Neal kissing him as Elizabeth rode him to his first orgasm...and when had they gotten undressed?

Peter looked between them, seeing identical expressions of lust...and love. "I'm sorry," he whispered, feeling tears sting his eyes.

"No, _we're_ sorry," Elizabeth said. She snuggled up next to him as Neal mirrored her on the other side.

"We love you, Peter," Neal said softly. "And we're sorry we made you doubt that."

"But I should have listened..."

"Yes, you should have," Elizabeth said. "But we understand why you didn't. Either one of us would have felt the same way.." She leaned up on an elbow to look down at him. ""It'll never happen again. Promise."

"Promise," Neal echoed. "Now, get some sleep because we're not even close to being done with you yet. It's been a while for El and I have a lot of catching up to do." He ran a hand down Peter's chest then said, "You were right, El. He's gorgeous."

Peter was about to object but thought better of it, especially when Elizabeth said, "You are, Peter. I saw how that nurse looked at you at the hospital. And she wasn't the only one I've seen giving you the eye."

Peter closed his eyes, relishing the feel of two warm bodies bracketing him - one all soft curves, the other hard planes. "You'll be here?" he asked softly.

"Of course."

"Not going anywhere."

With those assurances, he allowed himself to drift to sleep.


End file.
